


Heart & Soul

by flash0flight



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU Situation, MCU based, comic!verse elements, headcanon elements, post-Avengers movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flash0flight/pseuds/flash0flight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki escapes from Asgard and returns to Earth, he sets his sights on one Tony Stark for revenge. Armed with a new method of mind control, he uses Tony to take out the Avengers one by one. What he doesn't count on is how much of a fighter Tony can truly be at heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart & Soul

**~ Tony**

Bright, alert eyes were fixed on the black-and-green clad Mischief God, who was wearing an extremely smug and somewhat crazed expression. How the god had managed to escape was beyond Tony. How he’d made his way back to Earth, how he had not been stopped by his brother, how the billionaire was being force to face all this again, all beyond him. He couldn’t understand it. He didn’t want to. It shouldn’t be happening. It had been two years. Two years with no sign of the god, not a hint or a whisper. And then out of the blue, Tony had meandered out of the lab to settle down, only to find the smirking villain awaiting him, just as he had been last time.

 

Tony’s sharp eyes followed Loki as the god sauntered around the room, monologing to ridiculous proportions. As always. The Mischief God clearly had some issues with his self-worth, and could not deny himself the chance to ramble endlessly.

 

Not that Tony cared. The last thing he needed was for this threat to return to the world. Loki wasn’t supposed to be here. He should be imprisoned on Asgard, unable to speak, unable to move. Unable to escape. Making a mental note to beat on Thor for his slip up later, Tony wandered to the bar as casually as he could, reaching for the crystal scotch bottle. Probably not the best idea, to drink with this lunatic around, but it hadn’t stopped him last time.

 

“ Uh huh, yeah, sure. “ Mumbling aimlessly in the runaway god’s direction, Tony raised the glass to his lips. The burn of the alcohol in his throat was a welcome comfort.

 

“ Do not mock me with your petty attitudes. You will kneel, Stark. And you will enjoy it. “ Loki drawled in that forever infuriating voice. Bruce had been right; the god was a bag of cats. Insanity and insecurity rolled horribly into one, unpleasantly accompanied by a silver tongue, immortality, and infuriating magic. Tony did not flinch as a finger traced over the titanium bangle hidden under the ledge on the bar, the situation all too familiar to him. He only hoped it would not mean another drop through the window; that glass was thick and hurt like hell, and it was such a hassle to replace.

 

“ I never kneel, Loki. Trust me. Better men— “ Oh that touched a nerve, apparently, as Loki bristled, and Tony continued mercilessly— “ Have been trying to order me about for years. What makes you so different? “

 

“ You dare to show me such disrespect—“

 

“ You haven’t got your army this time. Meanwhile, we still have the same team, the same fight. You really think you’ll come out on top this time around? “

 

Tony was probably pushing it with the snark. He had seen first hand how unstable Loki was, how he hated to be proven wrong. How he would refuse to give up. That thought alone pushed him to nudge the bangles onto his wrist. A much needed precaution against this man. Brushing the movement off with another sip of his drink, Tony stayed firmly planted behind the bar, knowing better than to approach Loki. He may be reckless, but even Stark had some kind of sense. Besides, he needed time before the Mark VII was ready for use. A design flaw he should really take a look at.

 

“ This time, Stark, I have something else. Did you not notice the absence in my hands? “ The tone Loki was using spelled nothing but trouble. Even with the underlying insecurities, the god was so sure of himself, so set on the idea that he would succeed. So conniving and infuriating. No one was supposed to be that arrogant. No one but Tony, of course.

 

Stark huffed and rolled his eyes, leaning back on the counter as he sipped his drink. The last thing he was about to do was openly admit that he had indeed noticed the absence of Loki’s scepter. The thing had practically been glued to his hand during his last – uh, visit, for lack of a better word. Instead of pointing out the obvious, though, Tony just raised his eyebrows mockingly and took another sip, killing time. He still had at least a minute before his suit would be ready. And regardless of the training Steve had put him through after the Chitauri incident, the brunette was not quite ready to take on a god in hand-to-hand combat without his suit.

 

“ You have heart, Stark. In an entirely unique way, separate to those in your petty little group of— “ Loki paused to chuckle, a sound that ticked Tony off far too much – “ Heroes. I could not possibly pass up the opportunity to add you to my little collection. “

 

“ I’m not a collectible, Loki. It’s strictly a look-don’t-touch policy with me. “ Tony responded lazily, throwing out all the bravado he could find. Even the genius could not deny, however, how anxious he felt at the words that were now bouncing around his mind. He never truly understood how utterly disconcerting it was to hear the words ‘You Have Heart’ in that horrendously possessive way.

 

“ I must admit, I will not miss that rude mouth of yours. “ Loki quipped as he moved into action, taking careful, confident steps towards the bar, his eyes gleaming. While he kept his demeanor calm and careless, Tony could not help but feel a rising anxiety. The suit was not ready. And as much as he was sure Loki could not take control over him, thanks to the cavity in his chest that held the ever-trusty arc reactor, the god clearly had a plan, and he was tired of their word play. Loki was putting thoughts into actions, and Tony was running out of ideas.

 

“ Are you kidding? Everyone loves a bit of snark in their lives. “ Tony took an absent step back as Loki took another forward, hoping to keep a casual distance without making it obvious. Loki was too smart, though, doubling his steps and closing the distance.

 

“ Oh you will make a wonderful little soldier— “ Tony barely had time to scoff before Loki was upon him, a hand curling around his throat as he pushed Tony back. The man found himself stumbling, trying to keep his footing as Loki’s speed and strength far surpassed his own. Within moments, he had been pinned against a wall by his throat, lifted into the air. Choked. Struggling. Running out of air. “ Especially now that they trust you so. Wonderful little Iron Man, protecting Earth from its own inhabitants. And you dare deny the fact that humans need to be ruled. “

 

Tony wanted to respond, to scoff, to snark, to snap. Anything he could to fight against Loki’s words that were making his skin crawl so horribly. It was next to impossible for him to breathe, though, with the god’s fingers so tightly wrapped around his neck, cutting off most of the flow of oxygen, allowing only the slightest bit of air to slip through. Enough to keep him alive, but not enough to allow any kind of a fight.

 

Before he had a chance to formulate a plan, Loki raised his previously empty hand, which was now glowing with an eerily similar light to that of the tesseract, and of the scepter. One Tony had seen far too much in his life already, and did not want to face. Not with his eyes bulging as he gasped for air, wriggling and squirming in vain attempts to get free of Loki’s grasp.

 

And yet, it only got so much worse. The terrifying blue glow seemed to shift, changing consistency, turning gaseous.

 

**Oh no. Not good, Stark. You need to move. Move, dammit!**

No matter how hard he tried, though, Tony could not fight a god. Loki may not have his brother’s strength, but it was still much more than any human could ever imagine having. More than even their very own supersoldier. However he pushed and pulled, writhed and struggled, Tony could not get free. He could not escape that slowly approaching cloud of power.

 

“ You will know freedom, Anthony Stark. Through my rule, you will truly understand freedom. “

 

Tony made the mistake of gasping in as much as he could so he could spit a response at the god. But Loki moved his hand forward at that immediate moment, the cloud of harsh electric blue gas engulfing Tony, flowing through his mouth, his nose, passing through his airways, into his lungs. Through his chest. To his heart.

 

And it was all over.

 

There was no other way to describe it; Tony felt as though he were drowning. The power of the gas, of Loki’s magic, of his control, rippled through his body, through his system, taking over each nerve and each muscle. For a few moments, breathing was impossible. Speaking even moreso. Moving was unthinkable. A hand seemed to reach into his mind, into his soul, taking ahold of him, twisting and turning and dragging it away. Locking it up somewhere to take a backseat. That in itself was terrifying; or would be, if Tony had the chance to be terrified. He never took a backseat to anything in his life, constantly in the center of everything. Now, he was being pushed aside. Something else was being forced in, stuffed into his mind, latching on and taking over. His reactions were sluggish. His thoughts dull. His sight hazy, tinged with blue.

 

“ You are mine, Tony Stark. “

 

The voice was resolute, infinite, consuming him. Tony stopped struggling, hanging limp from the hand that pinned him to the wall. Loki set the man down on the floor, letting him breathe, letting him move. Tony did not. He had not been told to move. He simply stood and watched as the god dusted himself off, hardly registering the expression of pure satisfaction that had spread across his face.

 

“ We have work to do, Stark. Your little team of misfits is quite inconvenient in relation to my plans. “ Natural instinct screamed to respond with a quip in relation to Loki’s plans, his words about the Avengers, but Tony could not act on instinct anymore.

 

“ What would you have me do? “ His voice was his own, lazy and uncaring, arrogant. But his words were not his own, the meaning behind them, the conviction. Tony was a slave, a servant to the Mischief God. The part of him that had been set aside, locked up, pulled apart was watching, mildly aware of what he was soon to be forced to do. The compulsion, though, was too strong.

 

“ You have folded quite nicely into their ranks. The perfect Iron-clad soldier, if you will. “ The chuckle that left Loki’s lips was cruel and cold, but it made no difference to the billionaire. Not anymore. “ It will be quite fitting if you were to bring their end. “

 

Something began to speak in the back of his mind, something harsh and violent. Something raw. Everything that made him who he was, everything that defined him, everything that had been taken by Loki and constrained, held in a place where he could see that which was around him, but could do nothing. Even in the face of a threat on his team, a threat that was becoming himself, Tony could do nothing.

 

 ~~No. No, none of this is right. This can’t happen!~~ A dim voice was screaming in the back of his mind, yelling, raging, but it was nothing compared to what had taken control. It may as well have not sounded at all.

 

“ Your will is my command. “

 

The extremely smug satisfaction on Loki’s face only grew stronger as he gazed upon his new prized collectable. As though the world were falling into the palm of his hand, simply through his control of Tony Stark.

 

“ You will don your suit, Stark, in an effort to keep your newfound loyalty in the shadows. We will reveal this at the appropriate moments. For now, though, secrecy is imperative. “ The satisfaction was replaced by a knowing, conniving grin which practically spread from ear to ear. “ One by one, they will be brought down. You will crush them like ants, Stark. And they will be none the wiser. Not until their final moments, by which time it will be far too late. “

 

Loki’s voice consumed all in Tony’s mind, twisting his instincts, his senses, his skills, pushing him to determine the best and most efficient ways to bring an end to his own comrades, as though it needed to be done. As though it was better for him, for the world.

 

“ Understood. “

 

Tony watched with his now luminous blue eyes as the god turned to take his leave. Loki paused, though, struck with a sudden thought. Turning back to his puppet, taking extremely deliberate steps. That ever-terrifying and impossible smile curling his lips as he leaned closer to Tony, hissing something into the man’s ear.

 

“ Leave the Captain for last, Anthony. “

 

The words echoed through Tony’s mind, bouncing around, having no effect on what had been pushed into his soul. The part of him that was aware, though, the part that could do nothing but watch and feebly struggle, everything that had been pushed aside for a remade Stark, it was writhing, screaming, crying. Horrified at the prospect of killing the man he loved and knowing there was nothing he could possibly do to stop it.

 

\--

 

**~ Clint**

 

A glimmer of satisfaction passed through Clint as a target exploded rather violently in the distance, and he could not help but grin. The agent very much knew he was the best at what he did, far outdoing any other marksmen SHIELD, the government, or any other agency had. As far as Clint was concerned, he didn’t have a choice in the matter; he had to be the best at what he did, or it just wasn’t worth being around. It was just one of those things Clint had to fight for.

 

Apparently, Fury did not like the idea of the archer practicing with his explosive-tip arrows within the confines of SHIELD’s indoor target range, directing Barton to the specially built outdoor range. For Clint, it was like a playground, giving him the chance to completely test and unleash his self-acquired talents.

 

Reaching for his quiver, intending to pick out another exploding arrow for his training, Clint found himself mildly distracted by the familiar sound of Iron Man’s flight stabilizers and repulsors. An interesting surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.

 

He and Tony had previously spoken about the recurve bow Barton had grown so attached to, the agent knowing full well it was Stark Industries technology. After the run-in with Loki, Clint had more than a few ideas as to how his bow and tech-arrows could be improved. Not to mention some new concepts that could be useful concerning tech and energy disabling. That would definitely be useful against that mother of a scepter that stupid god had been so attached to. He hadn’t imagined, though, that the billionaire would come all the way out to the range just to talk weaponry. Stark would most likely be more comfortable in a cushy office with some scotch at hand.

 

Turning his attention back to his temporary sanctuary, Clint snagged an arrow from his quiver, talking over his shoulder at his teammate.

 

“ Come to play some target practice, tin can? “ Clint asked in decent humor as he lined up another shot. “ I’m sure you’d make a great partner. Something moving to shoot at is always way more entertaining. “

 

“ Thought you could take a timeout from your explosives for a chat about those arrows, chickenfeathers. “ Stark responded smoothly, his voice turned mildly ominous and echoed from within the helmet. Strange; the man would normally remove it, or at least lift his faceplate when speaking with a comrade. Clint’s mind was focused on his training, though, taking aim and firing his arrow with a perfect flow, muscles relaxing as a grin spread across his face. Of course, he’d hit exactly what he wanted to. As he turned his attention back to the suit-clad genius, a twitch of Clint’s fingers on the bow set off the arrow, an explosion sounding far behind him; a sound that brought yet another satisfied smirk.

 

“ Caught me at a good time. I was due for a break anyway. “ Clint folded his bow back in and set it down in the open case on the workbench beside Stark. Once the recurve was safely tucked away, he turned to the billionaire, leaning back against the bench on his hands. “ You got my memo, I’m guessing? “

 

“ Somehow. Don’t send me emails, I only check them about once a year. You’re lucky Jarvis pointed it out to me. “ Tony scoffed, but something in his speech was off. Mechanical, as though he’d rehearsed the conversation. Barton gave him a scrutinizing look, his concentration finally shifting off his training and onto the topic at hand. He and Tony may not be the closest buddies just yet, but they’d spent more than enough time together for Clint to at least know when something was wrong.

 

“ Spending too much time at the office, Stark? “ He asked carelessly, eyeing the armor-encased man. Tony still hadn’t removed his faceplate or his helmet, and it was difficult to judge his behavior on his actions while in the suit. By voice, though, Clint knew something here was wrong.

 

“ You kidding me? I’ve been avoiding paperwork like the plague. Pepper spends every day trying to drag me out of the lab. “ The more Clint analysed the words he was hearing, the more uncomfortable he felt. It was a familiar feeling, a niggling in the back of his mind. Something he should know. Something he should recognize. For the life of him, though, the agent couldn’t pick it out.

 

“ How’s Pep doing anyway? Still hasn’t left you to fend for yourself? “ It was part of Clint’s training to be smooth and natural in a moment like this, where he felt so horribly uneasy for reasons he couldn’t explain. All of the agent’s instincts were crying out for caution, but he couldn’t determine why. If only Tony would move that damn faceplate he would probably figure it out in a heartbeat; Barton was especially skilled at reading facial expressions, even those of broken billionaires who hid everything behind a ten-foot wall.

 

“ Pepper will never leave. She’s far too loyal. “

 

And there it was. The slightest hint of an edge in Stark’s voice, the strange way he spoke, the minor sounds. No one else could possibly pick up on it. No one else had lived through it before. Clint’s senses heightened immediately, eyes and ears picking up on everything. The slightest movements, the smallest sounds. His expression remained impassive as he watched Stark, but something must have changed in his eyes. And Stark had seen it right away.

 

“ So, how’s this meeting going to go, Barton? “ Stark spoke in his usual lazy tone, but Clint knew better. He knew it was a ruse, an act, an order given to him. One he had no choice but to follow.

 

“ You tell me, Stark. “ The agent’s instincts kicked in, mind flashing through possibilities. His com was literally within reach, but any attempt at it would likely earn him a repulsor blast to the chest. Suddenly he was cursing himself for folding up his bow so soon, though he knew his bows would be of no use. As good as a shot as he was, not much could pierce the armor Stark was encased in.

 

There was, however, a gun. Just sitting on the bench, right beside Clint’s hand.

 

The amused chuckle that echoed from inside the helmet only unnerved him further. Clint could feel his skin crawling, memories hitting him hard and fast of the time when he had been the puppet. The one whose strings were constantly tugged and pulled. When he had no soul, no will of his own. When he had been unmade. And if Clint had only just managed to pick up on it, there was no way in hell anyone else would.

 

Lightning fast, trained to perfection reflexed kicked in as Clint’s fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun, swinging it up to aim and shoot in one fluid motion. Bullets made little difference against the Iron Man suit, though, besides the distraction of the agent’s sudden attack. Using his precious seconds, Clint lunged for the com device.

 

“ This is Barton! Stark’s been compr- “

 

Pain exploded in his abdomen, a sharp, throbbing, terrible pain. Clint had been through hell and back in his life, running ops that never seemed to go right. Someone always ended up hurt. Most of the time it was him, saving someone else’s ass and giving himself up to attack in the process. He was very much accustomed to pain. The shock of the source being his own comrade, someone he saw as a friend, though, was overwhelming.

 

“ You had the choice, Barton. To be free. Forever protected from such things while under my rule. Now, you will know pain. “

 

It was not Tony’s voice hissing in his ear, but Loki’s, echoing through his pain-ridden mind, striking fear and anger through Clint’s heart. The man yanked the blade out of Clint’s stomach, blood gleaming on the shining silver and armor on Tony’s hand. Whatever was left of the agent’s mind, whatever was not reeling with shock and confusion and pain, dimly registered the new adjustment to the Iron Man suit, one that allowed a horribly sharp blade to pop out of the suit’s middle finger. But the edges of his corner were growing darker as Clint clutched his abdomen, trying in vain to stop the blood that was pouring steadily from his fresh wound. Needless to say, it was a little hard to concentrate on anything beyond the pain and the shock of what had been done to a friend.

 

“ L-Loki… fucking asshole…!! “ He managed to choke out as he fell to his knees. Everything was growing fuzzy as he lost more blood, but all he could think of was that he had to fight. He had to do something. If Clint didn’t act now, he would not be the only one. Somehow, he knew it.

 

The gun was still in his hand.

 

Still kneeling on the floor, Clint managed to slide a foot out in front of him, one knee still firmly planted on the ground. Trying his hardest to stay as steady and focused as possible, he raised the gun, and he shot. Again and again and again. He could hear the ring of bullets on metal, knew he was finding his mark. But it was not enough. What Clint needed was some weakness in the armor, some gap, something. Anything.

 

There was nothing.

 

The last thing Clint heard as he slumped to the floor, his hand weakly struggling to hold up the gun, the other pressing pathetically on his wound as he bled out, was Tony’s voice. A voice that somehow morphed into Loki’s, cold and smooth and vile.

 

“ It is such a shame, Agent. You had such heart. “

 

**~ Tony**

 

The faceplate of his helmet slid up as Tony watched the agent lose consciousness, a hand still clutching his abdomen from which he was slowly but steadily bleeding out. The harsh, glowing blue in his eyes was uncaring and cold, his mind hardly registering the likely death of Barton. It was necessary, he told himself. These things needed to be done, they were imperative to freeing the Earth. Freeing humans from themselves.

 

Tony could not register why these words seemed strange and foreign in his brain, and had little time to dwell on that fact. In the back of his mind, his conscious, his soul, the part of him that had been left whole but tethered, was screaming out in agony. Horrified at what he’d just done. His gaze turned to the blade protruding from the finger of his suit. The compulsion was too strong; the sight hardly phased him. All Tony could really think was that it had been a stroke of brilliance to make such an addition to the suit. The screaming in the back of his mind may as well have been radio static.

 

Turning away from the soldier, Tony strode over to the now useless com device. Barton had gotten three words into his warning when Tony emitted a wonderfully silent pulse that disabled the device. Not that Barton would have known. It had been a close call; one second longer and SHIELD would be on the lookout for a defected Iron Man. Not a particular issue, but it would certainly add a touch of difficulty to his plan.

 

Tony took a moment to crush the tech in his hand and drop it on the ground before stepping over the bleeding agent and making a beeline to the quiver of arrows Barton had been using. He himself had taken the time to design the arrowheads and the tech-imbued bow for the archer, and as such Tony knew exactly what he was looking for. After some trial and error, he located the arrow he was looking for. The head was filled with a particularly rare and highly effective serum. One that would come in use at a later date, no doubt.

 

A small smirk spread across his face as he slid the arrow into a compartment on his suit, the faceplate sliding down into place with a small clunk. With one last glance at the dying Clint Barton, Tony took off, making his way back home. He had much work to do, and now he would have to move swiftly if he hoped to complete the plans that had been so delicately implanted into his mind. Those which he truly believed were his own.

 

**~Director Fury**

“ Sir! We have an emergency! “

 

Fury’s gaze turned up from the paperwork he’d been swamped with to see the Assistant Directed of SHIELD practically skid into his office. Maria Hill caught herself just in time, straightening her posture and throwing the Director a salute, waiting with an uncharacteristic impatience that made even Fury anxious.

 

“ What’s the problem, Hill? “ He asked in a level tone, keeping his concerns on the down-low. As was expected. If he didn’t keep a level head, the entire agency would begin to panic. And Hill seemed to be doing that for the both of them as it was.

 

“ We received a transmission from Barton out on the external range, sir. “ Hill reported. The woman was entirely military and procedure from head to toe, but even that could not stave off the anxiety in her voice. Few things made Maria so flustered, and Fury could not ignore the gut feeling that something bad was about to be thrown all over him. “ It was incomplete. His com was disabled and we can’t find a way through to it. “

It could be nothing. It could be that the com got caught in one of the explosions from Barton’s arrows. It could be as simple as a tech malfunction. The look on Maria’s face, though, that stricken, edgy expression, told him there was more.

 

“ Spit it out, Hill. What aren’t you saying. “

 

“ He sounded panicked, sir. As though under attack. And half of his message was static before we lost all connection with the device. “

 

And if anyone knew how that sounded, it was Maria. You didn’t get to Assistant Director of SHIELD without a world of field experience. Fury did not remember rising to his feet. He did not remember barking orders into his com, organizing a transport, picking out agents to fly out, pacing back and forth behind his desk as he spoke. He didn’t remember any of this, and yet when he’d tossed the com down on top of his paperwork again, somehow he knew it had all been done.

 

“ Director, permission to accompany the investigating team. “

 

Maria spoke in perfect control, but when Fury met her eyes he knew she was panicking. Hell, they both were. It took a lot of work for anyone to earn Nicholas Fury’s trust, but Barton had passed that test with flying colours, more than once. The kid was basically as valuable to him as Maria or Phil, not in his skills or his talent but his natural instincts to protect, to fight to no end. His ability to do what’s right and to refuse any other way.

“ Granted. Bring him home, Agent Hill. “

 

Another salute, and Maria had turned and almost fled from the room, no doubt formulating her own plan of defense, her own methods in the worst-case scenario. A scenario Fury sincerely hoped they would not need to face. Nick leaned his hands on the table, slumping forward, weighed down with worry. Even fear at what could possibly be. The death of a highly valuable Agent was bad enough. The death of a friend, though, was all the worse.

 

**~Clint**

Blinding, flashing, horrendous pain. Radiating from his abdomen to his whole body. What happened? Clint couldn’t remember. He fought for his memories, for his consciousness, for clarity. For anything that could help him figure out just how he’d gotten here. One minute the archer had been playing a particularly fun game of watch-the-targets-explode-in-sync, and the next.. what?

 

“ Hold on, Barton, we’re almost home. “

 

A groan in response. Clint’s mouth wasn’t working. Hell, he wasn’t sure his body was working. Pain and confusion was all he could understand, though there was a moment of clarity in which he recognized Maria’s voice. Panicked and worried. Maria never panicked. What was going on?

 

Where was the pain coming from?

 

Liquid. Clogging up his mouth. His airways. Finally, Clint was aware of the fact that he wasn’t really breathing. A choke, a cough, a drowned splutter. Blood spraying on his face, dribbling from the corners of his lips. The motions weren’t helping the pain either, which only grew with each hack.

 

“ Oh god, he’s not breathing! Quick, clear his airways, we have to—“

 

Clint couldn’t hold onto much more. No matter how they tried to wipe and suction the blood from his mouth, more replaced it. A never-ending flow of the crimson liquid, cutting his words and his breathing short. His head was spinning, his mind blank and dull, almost to the point of being numb. Maybe if he let it happen he wouldn’t feel the pain anymore. It was worth a shot, right?

 

And yet, some niggling feeling kept him awake. Something he had to do, information to relay. Something.. anything..

 

The memory hit his slowly fading mind like a freight train. The red and gold, the altered weapon, the gleaming blade smeared with red. The voice. The words. If he had the ability, Clint would have shuddered right there on the table he’d been set down on. The agent could only assume someone had picked him up in time, and he was being transported back to base. Hopefully. It sure as hell would suck to bleed out in the middle of the air.

Besides, all birds fell to earth as they died, right?

 

No matter how he tried, though, the words wouldn’t leave his mouth. Every time he tried to formulate words, force them from his throat, it was replaced by blood. More blood. More coughing. More spluttering. More pain.

 

He had to tell them. They needed to know Iron Man was compromised. They had to be aware of Tony’s capture, of his control. Someone had to know or his team was going to be in serious danger.

 

Clint could still see the glowing eyes of the Iron Man mask as he fell back into darkness.

 

**~Tony**

 

“ Jarvis. The security probes that were run in the SHIELD database last year, are you still connected to them? “

 

» Of course, Sir. May I ask why? «

 

“ We’re going on a little expedition. “

 

Tony stared blankly at the screen, impassive and somewhat bored as the coding and data run before his eyes. It was all too easy to hack into the SHIELD database, to slip in without their security systems noticing. Considering Stark had been responsible for most of the major security updates SHIELD now had, it was like a walk in the park. Easier with Jarvis at the wheel. The Iron Man helmet sat on the desk beside his keyboard, leaving him free to twist his neck, to stretch, to breathe. The suit was comfortable enough, but after a certain amount of time it was a strain on his body. Regardless of the constant push in his mind, the drive to complete his task, he was limited by his human form.

 

Unfortunate, really. There was much to be done.

 

“ Slip in unnoticed, Jarvis. I need remote access to all of their security. Cameras, motion detection, all forms of surveillance. “

 

» May I inquire as to why, sir? Is it time for Fury’s annual prank? «

 

Jarvis’ snark was a part of his system, but it was a waste of time when Stark considered how much he had left. Now that he had targeted one of the Avengers, the others would be on the lookout. Worse still, Barton had known. Somehow, the man knew. Considering the wound, the agent should be dead by now. But there was always a possibility someone had picked him up, and even if the man wouldn’t awaken for a considerable amount of time, Tony had to play this game with extra caution from hereon in.

 

“ No. And you are not permitted to tell anyone of this. Or of anything that could raise suspicion. Do you understand? “ Tony’s tone was harsh, firm, very much the genius would normally behave. But Jarvis was a system, a program, and while it was smart enough to understand something was very wrong with the man that created it, it was programmed to answer to Tony Stark’s commands above all else.

 

» Understood, sir. «

 

“ Good. Integrate SHIELD’s mainframe with your system. Discretely, of course. I need to be able to access this from any of my devices. Including the suit. “

 

Hauling himself to his feet, Tony snagged the helmet and snapped it back on, watching before his eyes on the HUD as numbers flashed, displays altered, new symbols and sections of the software faded into existence in his system. Still watching carefully as everything was fully integrated, Tony strode out of the lab, slipping a canister into a compartment of the suit on his way. Things were in motion, there was no time to waste.

 

**~Steve**

 

Waiting was not the soldier’s game, and yet he found that was all he could do. Steve paced back and forth outside the medical bay of SHIELD, waiting for news, a sign, something. Anything. The moment the news had been delivered he’d rushed straight to base, desperate to help, to collect whatever information he could, to find whoever had done this to a member of his team. Of his family, really.

 

The soldier didn’t have much left. The Avengers had become the family Steve lost so long ago. To know one of them was now fighting for his life was almost unbearable. Worse still; he hadn’t been there to protect him.

 

Clint and Steve got along like a house on fire. While their personalities weren’t strictly the same, they were similar enough in the ways that mattered. Both understood duty, the push to keep fighting, to never give up. To stay strong even when the world tells you you’re wrong. To be so impossibly stubborn-headed that failure simply wasn’t an option. Clint was reckless in the field at times, while Steve found himself more reserved. They balanced well, drawing aspects of each other’s personalities out without much effort. They’d run more ops together since the Chitauri incident than Steve could bother to count anymore.

 

And now the kid was bleeding out on a surgery table. The Captain could only hope that impossible stubbornness would kick in, that the agent would fight like hell for the life he deserved to keep.

 

“ Captain Rogers. “

 

The stern, familiar voice halted Steve in his tracks, his posture automatically straightening as he turned to face Director Fury. Friends they may be, but Fury was still his commanding officer. Besides, falling into line like the soldier Steve was at heart helped him cope with his anxieties for the man lying on the table in there.

 

“ Sir. Any news from the range? “

 

“ Not a damn thing. He still in there? “

 

“ Yes, sir. He—it has been a while. “

 

A frown creased Fury’s forehead, and Steve was sure his own was the same. Steve knew how important Barton was to this agency. Hell, to Fury himself. Not even Captain America had Fury’s trust like Clint did. The kid had wormed his way through the agency, shooting up a storm the whole way, until Fury found that he was basically irreplaceable.

 

Steve had never seen such concern on the man’s face before. Not like this. Not so raw and sad and real. Fury was the best of the best, controlled and levelheaded at all times. Much like the Captain himself. For him to be showing such worry so openly was definitely a bad sign.

 

“ We have no leads at all? Nothing I can follow? “ Steve asked quietly as they both turned to face the door, hoping someone would come through and give them the news they were waiting for.

 

“ Nothing. Where’s the rest of your team, Cap? “

 

Good question. Tony had been due at SHIELD an hour ago, but Steve was long since used to his other half’s inability to keep to a schedule. Chances are, he had found himself distracted with his work or an invention, or had taken the investigation into his own hands, lending his ‘consultant talents’ as he so eloquently called them. Bruce was holed up in his lab, tinkering away with his own experiments. No one had told him yet of the news. No one had been brave enough to face the pain Bruce would surely feel at the news of his husband lying half dead in surgery. Thor was in Asgard, keeping watch over his mischievous brother, and Natasha had been back and forth, keeping up with the investigation while checking for more news on her partner.

 

“ Here and there. Some have checked in, some haven’t. They’re of more use wherever they are right now, sir. “ Steve responded honestly. There was little good any of them could do if they huddled outside the operating theatre. Steve was waiting out of pure concern and fear for Clint, and if Widow was on the hunt for information she would likely spot anything Steve would see himself. Best to leave matters in the more than capable hands of her and Maria Hill, for the time being.

 

“ And no one’s come out with any news yet? “

 

“ Nothing, sir. Not yet. “

 

After a glance at each other, both Fury and Steve turned their gazes back to the door, waiting. Hoping. That was all either of them could do anymore.

 

**~Tony**

 

The man’s so-called other half was drifting about the medical bay, waiting for news on the injured agent. It seemed Clint had made it back alive, but being in critical condition left everyone doubtful as to whether or not he would pull through. It was not a thought that lingered in his mind; if the agent were to pass, it would make things much more convenient. A much needed loss for the world to take its rightful place under Loki’s rule.

No, dwelling on the agent’s health was not worth his time. Tony had bigger fish to fry. Or bigger spiders to capture.

 

Black Widow. Logically, she was the next threat to be dealt with. Deadly smart and horribly skilled in hand-to-hand combat, Tony had no hope of beating her in a fight even with the suit on. There were other ways, though. Simpler ways. Far more elegant and efficient. Fasting acting, colorless and odorless, highly poisonous gases, for example, that would render someone unconscious and lead to their death, assuming they were not discovered.

Thankfully, working hand in hand so often with Banner lead Tony to knowledge that helped him acquire just the right poison.

 

Widow’s office had been difficult to get into, but thankfully his remote access to the security systems of the building allowed him to work around the traps and alarms he was sure the agent had set up herself. Once he was in, it was only a matter of setting up the small canister to disperse the gas throughout the room, and leaving before it reached him; though the suit would filter out any unwanted toxins.

 

Seeking refuge the next office, which was conveniently empty for the time being, Tony sat and waited patiently for the master assassin to return. The suit had infrared vision built in, making it easy to at least see Natasha’s movements when she finally arrived, the figure moving past other agents through the hallway and pausing at her office door. A few moments to bypass her own security settings and she stepped inside, snapping the door closed behind her as though she expected something to follow her.

 

Such a shame the surprise was already in place.

 

30 seconds. That was how long it would take for the poison to kick in. She would begin to lose control of her muscles, twitching and lashing out as the symptoms grew worse. Her head would become groggy, her eyes unable to focus, her breathing unstable and difficult. Soon she would lose all motor control as the poison seeped deeper into her mind. It wouldn’t be long until Natasha Romanoff lost the ability to breathe as her muscles would lose the ability to react, her lungs unable to expand.

 

Cold, harsh, distant, and beautiful. A fitting death for the Black Widow.

 

23… 24… 25… 26… Tony waited with very little patience, watching the slightest movements, knowing it wouldn’t be long. He would make a move immediately, his next and most difficult target already in mind. Bruce Banner would require the most delicate of handling if Tony were to complete his goal. A single moment of bad timing, and it would be curtains for Stark. As sure as he was that he could handle anything thrown his way, Tony knew the Hulk would not look kindly on an attempt to murder the doctor. Especially not if they put two and two together, determining that Tony was also responsible for Barton’s injury and possible death. Not to mention Natasha’s, considering how dangerously close she was to the poison taking effect.

 

Right on cue, Romanoff began to twitch. An arm here, a leg there. Growing worse with each passing moment. A shake of the head, flailing arm. Kicking leg. He may not be able to hear it, but judging by the movements, Tony would guess that the agent was swaying, struggling to stay awake. Beginning to gasp for breath. All control of her arms, lost. Followed by her legs. Falling to the floor. Twitching. Writhing. Lungs failing. Body fading.

 

His work was done. Tony climbed out of the office window, knowing better than to wander through SHIELD HQ in his suit. Besides, flying was much faster, and his next course of action would have to wait for some preparation.

 

Two down, two to go. Soon, the world would be free. Humans would be free, from themselves.

 

\--

 

**~Steve**

Steve stared hopelessly at the unconscious archer in the bed. The surgery had been a struggle, but Clint was too stubborn to die just yet, fighting through hell just to survive. As always. The kid was a born fighter, whatever anyone else said. And Steve knew it. He’d been off the table for hours now, staying under from a combination of medication and blood loss. SHIELD doctors had said it would be at least a week before Barton woke up. Even that would be pushing it with the amount of blood he’d lost. A week without the archer’s snark and sass, without his prodding and poking to push the Captain out of his comfort zone, the moments of reassurance and support they both gave each other? It definitely wasn’t the best situation, but at least it had been bearable to a degree.

Until Natasha had been rushed into the emergency room, seizing horribly and hardly drawing any breath at all.

 

The doctor’s did not need to think twice; they could see the signs. Poison. It had been unleashed into her office somehow, waiting for her return. Not many people had access to Natasha’s office, not with her security measures and extra precautions. Security records showed nothing. No break-ins, no hacks. Nothing. And yet, there the agent lay, barely alive. Irregular heartbeat. Temporarily damaged lungs. Damaged airways. Loss of motor control. Who knew what else. No one would until the agent regained consciousness, and considering the amount of the gas Tasha had inhaled, that could be a few days at best.

Steve turned his gaze to her sadly, his heart breaking in two. The Avengers had come to mean so much to him, each of them in turn filling something in his heart that he thought would be empty forever. Waking up in a new time, one he could not hope to understand, it was horribly disconcerting. His team had become his life, and now they were slipping through his fingers.

 

Worse still, he needed Tony there with him, he needed his genius, his snark, his support. Steve needed his other half, and Tony was no where to be found. Steve had tried calling him but had hit Jarvis’ message bank. Tony never checked his messages to begin with. Steve could not help but worry, fearing that Tony had been next.

 

“ How’re the kids doing? “

 

Broken out of his morbid thoughts by a familiar voice, Steve tore his gaze away from his teammates to see the Director had returned. Fury’s eye landed on Barton, shifted over to Romanoff, and he visibly cringed, a deep frown spread across his face.

 

“ Fighting, as always. “ Steve responded as Fury set a chair beside him and slumped down in the seat. The ward was practically empty, the nurses leaving the two agents under Steve’s capable watch for the time being, and the two military men had no problems with letting their guard down around each other. “ Has anyone told him? “

 

“ Who, Banner? Not yet. I’d like to but I don’t think the other guy’ll take too kindly to the news. “

 

“ It’ll be worse if we don’t, Nick. “

 

As much as they both knew Bruce could fly off the handle at the news of his husband’s attack, of Clint’s near death experience, of the fact that the man was hardly hanging on for life as it was, Fury’s expression shifted, and Steve knew he agreed. As much as telling Bruce could end horribly, keeping the truth from the Doctor could only be worse.

 

“ Stay here with the kids, I’ll talk to him. “ A sigh left him as Steve forced himself to his feet, stretching his arms and back out before taking on the confident, controlled demeanor that not only lent others hope, but also gave hope to the soldier himself. With a small nod in Fury’s direction, Steve strode towards the door, dreading every step.

 

“ Good luck, Captain. “

 

\--

 

“ Doctor Banner? “

 

The man tore himself away from his experiment, turning to face Steve as he walked into the room. Steve was always surprised at how at home Bruce was in his lab, how peaceful and happy he became working on his experiments, retreating into his world of science. The soldier understood, though; artwork had the same effect on him, and more often than not he would retreat into that world to find a grasp on his emotions. It seemed much the same for Bruce, really, when he lost himself in science.

 

Nevertheless, he seemed content with the blond’s presence, even sharing a smile as he held out his hand. Steve crossed the lab and shook his hand, somehow finding it within himself to return the smile. He was sure it was something he would not see on Bruce’s face for a while after this.

 

“ Everything alright, Cap? You seem a bit on edge. “ Bruce raised his eyebrows as he eyed Steve, sharp gaze not missing a thing. After the Chitauri incident, the team had grown closer and closer, and Banner had been no exception. Steve had found that he understood the doctor surprisingly well, that they were actually more alike than he’d initially thought.

 

“ Yeah, I’m good. How are you feeling, Bruce? “ His response was sincere, genuinely concerned. Steve had found himself completing work for SHIELD for the past week or so, only stopping when he heard about Clint. Checking up on his team seemed normal to him, but now it seemed like necessity.

 

“ Fine, just fine. Hardly left the lab for a while, actually. Waiting for Clint to get back. “ Bruce gestured towards his equipment absently, too momentarily distracted to notice the frown spread across Steve’s face at the mention of the archer. This suddenly seemed like a horrible idea, as though telling Bruce would make things worse instead of better. They were married, though. Joined for the rest of their lives. It was hard to find a better fitting couple than Clint and Bruce. They simply worked. Despite their differences, their hardships, they both saw more in each other than most ever would.

 

Both of them had been through hell and back, and that was why they understood each other in a way others just didn’t. If only for that reason alone, Bruce needed to know the truth.

 

“ Why don’t you take a seat? I have some.. news. “

 

As much as Steve pushed to speak evenly, keeping his tone calm and composed. By now, though, the team knew each other all too well, and Bruce’s expression fell as his gaze turned back to the soldier. For a moment, Steve thought he would argue, and was more than ready to insist that the good doctor would need a seat for this. But Bruce seemed to realize that himself, dragging a stool over and slumping down, fear and panic already making its way into his expression.

 

“ We’ve had a few mishaps throughout the past few days. “ Steve began slowly, considering what words to use, the best way to break the news. There seemed to be no good way to do so, though. The soldier knew that no matter what he said, it was going to hurt.

 

“ What mishaps, Steve. Tell me. “ Bruce’s voice was harsh, panicked, fearful. And yet his eyes were insistent. After a moment of hesitation, Steve continued.

 

“ Clint and Tasha were both targeted. “ The expression on Bruce’s face turned, his skin turning pale, his eyes widening in shock. In dread. But Steve continued. If anyone had the right to know, it was Bruce. “ Clint was on the off-site range practicing when someone stabbed him in the gut. Tasha was in her office and caught a hit of a poisonous gas. We don’t have any leads yet—“

 

“ Is he alright? Is he alive? “ Came the horrified whisper.

 

“ He’s alive, they both are. He lost a lot of blood, Bruce. And I mean a lot. We don’t know when he’ll wake up again, but he will—“

 

Steve had been unable to get another word out as the doctor practically threw himself off the stool, sprinting without care for the door. It was only seconds before he was gone, presumably headed right for the medical ward to check on the man he loved, and Steve wouldn’t stop him even if he wanted to. The soldier could only hope that he would not find himself in the same position as he checked his own phone, finding no messages. No nothing. No messages, no phone calls, nothing. Tony may as well be off the grid, and Steve had no idea how to find him. Hauling himself to his feet, the blond stuffed the phone back into the pouch on his suit and strode out of the room. With Tasha out of the game, it fell to Steve to find out who was trying to tear his team apart.

 

\--

 

**~Tony**

 

It wouldn’t be long now. The man had attacked Barton four days ago, and Romanoff three. Unfortunately, both had been found and saved. The archer’s surgery had been an excruciatingly long process, taking up the better part of a day in order to correctly patch the man up from the damage Tony’s newest suit modification had caused. Of course it hadn’t helped that Barton had fallen into cardiac arrest, but the agent was too damn stubborn to die. Stark would have to be sure to complete the job more efficiently next time, should Barton attempt to refuse freedom once more.

 

Romanoff had been equally stubborn, somehow surviving the effects of the poison long enough to be found by her fellow agents. From the reports – all of which Tony had unlimited access to with his invisible infiltration of SHIELD’s system – the poison had been flushed out of her system, but she had not regained consciousness. The gas had more than enough time to cause chaos and destruction in her system, and there was a chance that when she awoke there would be more damage to the agent than they could tell for the time being.

 

If that were the case, it would be convenient for the billionaire. Widow was not someone he wanted to face head-on.

 

All in all, though, Tony’s attention was settled on the next phase of the plan. Of the job that needed completing. Over the course of the four days, he had given the event as little thought as possible. On orders, of course. Beyond initial planning and strategy, the thought of what was soon to come brought uncomfortable twitches to his hands, squeaks to the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite identify. It had been so long since Tony had been given this new freedom, this task, this honor, that he had forgotten all else. Forgotten how it was to have a voice in the back of his mind, screaming that this was all wrong. So much so that he could not even recognize it anymore, not beyond a mildly irritating buzz echoing through the expanse of his mind that was dedicated to bringing an end to the Avengers.

 

» Sir, you have a visitor. «

 

The voice of the AI was somewhat startling. Tony had ordered Jarvis to speak only when needed, or when spoken to in order to avoid unnecessary snark and pointless banter. There were more pressing matters at hand, and the last thing Tony could waste his time on was bonding with artificial intelligence. As such, Jarvis’ voice rarely sounded through the lab in which Tony had spent a majority of his time since the attack on Widow.

 

“ That so? Who is it? “

 

» Doctor Banner. Would you like me to allow him access to the lab? «

 

“ Sure, why not. “

 

» As you wish, sir. «

 

Tony took a quick moment to bring his appearance up on the HUD he was sitting at, ensuring things were in order. Over the course of his waiting, of the days since the attacks, he’d had plenty of time to gain a fuller understanding of this new mentality he had been gifted with, and in the process he had learned to dull the harsh blue glow that was in his eyes. Not entirely, of course, but enough to fool most who did not give his eyes too much attention.

 

Just as he flicked the image off the display, Bruce practically dragged himself through the door. The man looked defeated, broken, practically one of the walking dead. Spirit crushed, fear in his eyes, despair plastered across his face. The shattered remains of his heart were practically on display for the world to see.

 

All Tony could see was opportunity. A chance, the possibility. How easy it would be in that moment to bring the almighty Hulk to his knees and not even need to see the green monster for a moment.

 

~~The thoughts hurt what was left of Tony, what was imprisoned, what was forced to watch on as his body was controlled, a puppeteer tugging all of his strings. Tony’s will was not strong enough to break free, to end the compulsion. But he sure as hell was trying. Watching Barton fall in front of his eyes, being responsible, it turned him to ice. Watching Natasha fall to the floor, helpless and done for had been just as bad. And there had been nothing he could do to stop Loki. To stop the orders, the compulsion, the push. The drowning. This was too much, though. Tony had to try. He had to do something. His best friend was walking right into a trap. There had been no prompt, no message, no luring. He’d come running to Tony just as the damn compulsion thought he would.~~

~~Tony raged against his bonds. Screamed. Cried. Let out every ounce of energy, of power, of strength he had left. After days and days of imprisonment, of being unmade, that was not much. He was not even fully aware of.. anything. But he knew Bruce was there. He knew what was coming. He couldn’t be responsible for that. Tony had caused enough damage as it was.~~

~~Whatever it took, Tony needed to fight this.~~

“ Bruce. You look like hell. “ Tony said with a touch of kindness in his voice, gesturing towards the nearest chair. The defeated doctor slumped into it without hesitation, slouching forwards, eyes closing for a moment.

 

“ I haven’t slept in days. “ Came the murmur. The voice was broken, a shadow of what it usually was. And yet— ~~god dammit, Tony couldn’t believe he’d caused this. Even if it had not been him, if it had been that fucking useless God, he’d still caused it. This couldn’t happen, there had to be~~ —Tony could only see the approaching moments of victory. The moment when he would succeed where all else had failed.

 

“ Not all that surprised. How’s he holding up? “ He was very careful with his tone, holding that edge of snark Stark always used, but compiling it with enough compassion to bring some kind of stability to Banner’s mind. Not much, but some— ~~what sanity was left in his entirely constrained will was writhing, aching to make this stop. He pushed against his bonds, trying to break free, to break the compulsion. To remake himself. He had to. This was Bruce. Tony owed him his life~~ —stability that somehow pushed him to find the words. To confide in his best friend. In one of the few people Bruce genuinely believed he could trust.

 

“ He—it’s a waiting game. There’s nothing I can do anymore. “ Bruce’s voice cracked, and the man held his head in his hands. “ Nothing, Tony. Nothing at all. I can’t—I can’t fix this! I can’t fix **him**! “

 

Tony watched on as the man gasped, clearly doing his best to hold back sobs. To hide his pain. It was perfect, exactly as Tony had envisioned it. The doctor was – ~~this was bad, everything was bad. Bruce was wide open to exactly what this bastard was planning, he was walking into the trap like a goddamn fool. There had to be something, some way, he couldn’t let~~ – playing into the palm of his hand, and Tony intended to crush him.

 

Hopping off his own chair, Tony strode over to the doctor and set a sturdy hand on his shoulder, lending reassurance, playing out the scenario as it needed to be played. This was necessary. Fool the man into believing he still had his best friend, that Tony had not moved onto a bigger and better world. That he was still a good guy, fighting for the world that so clearly needed a higher power to control them.

 

“ I took a peek at the files. He’ll wake up, Bruce. “ Gripping onto the man’s shoulder, Tony waited for both the words and the effect of his touch to sink in. To bring some kind of calm to Bruce’s mind. It took some time, some patience, some crippling silence, but Bruce steadied his nerves. Enough to speak, at least.

 

“ You think I could stay here for a while, Tony? “ A spark of hope in his voice, the first since Bruce had entered. Even in his eyes was a very small, faint light. One he was clearly struggling to hold onto, but it was still there. Perfect. Absolutely – ~~Tony made a note to remind Banner what an idiot he was later, assuming they got out of this. Assuming he could find a way to break free. But he had to. If he didn’t do something soon, one of his closest friends was going to~~ – wonderful. Everything was exactly as he planned.

 

“ Course you can. Just don’t hulk out on me and break one of the cars. “ That earned him a rather watery chuckle, but the relief was evident. Bruce was right where Tony wanted him. The doctor hauled himself to his feet, and the pair walked towards the door. On the way, Tony very discretely snagged the head of the arrow he’d had the foresight to take from Clint’s quiver. A very special arrow, containing the extremely rare anti-hulk serum, to be used only in emergencies.

 

As far as Tony was concerned – ~~Dammit. DAMMIT. There had to be some way. Something other than a hit on the head. Anything. This couldn’t happen. There had to be a way. Tony had done so much bad in his life, he had to stop this. Bruce couldn’t pay for his mistake~~ – this was most certainly an emergency.

 

“ Thanks, Tony. This means—“

 

The arrowhead sunk into the side of Bruce’s neck, serum injecting immediately. The irises of Bruce’s eyes had turned the slightest shade of green with the sight of a threat, but it was too late. The serum was fast acting, effective, doing exactly as it was supposed to. Better still, it was supposed to be used on Hulk, not on Bruce. And as much as Bruce’s own system had been enhanced with his irradiation, this serum was more than enough to knock the doctor out for a week. At the very least. It was perfect— ~~he had never thought his will could struggle so hard, fight with such determination, yell, scream, cry. He could see the green in Bruce’s eyes beginning to fade away, turn to nothingness, as though the life had left his body. The serum was not meant for Bruce, it was for Hulk. For Bruce, it could be fatal. And there was nothing left to be done. He was too late. He’d failed his best friend~~ – fulfilling Tony’s exact wishes as the Doctor fell to the floor, unconscious.

 

A smirk of satisfaction was most certainly well deserved as Tony knelt down, plucking the arrowhead from Bruce’s neck and tossing it aside. After a moment’s thought, he picked the man up and made for the elevator, intending to keep Bruce Banner hostage in his own home, locked up and unconscious on the floor Stark had built especially for him. No one would be any wiser, believing the doctor had fled the pain of his husband’s near-death experience.

 

Three down, one to go.

 

**~ Steve**

 

“ Tony? “

 

“Steve. “

 

The relief was overwhelming, and Steve found himself stumbling to the chair in his office, unstable from shock. It had been a week since he’d heard a peep out of his other half, and he’d been utterly terrified. With someone out to end the Avengers, the soldier had taken it upon himself to search high and low for Tony, desperate to make sure he was safe. Hell, to make sure he was alive. And just as he’d dragged himself back into his office at SHIELD, his phone had gone off.

 

“ God, where have you been?! I’ve been trying to call and Jarvis kept diverting me to message bank, and after Clint and Tasha I just—Tony are you okay?! “ Steve was babbling, unable to keep one train of thought. Question after question raced through his mind, but he couldn’t quite figure out which one he should be asking.

 

“ I’m fine, Steve. Really. I’m at home. “

 

“ You- what? You’re at the Tower? Why are you—“ Steve was baffled, blinking absently as he stared at his desk, unable to make heads or tails of his other half’s words. It didn’t make sense. Steve had checked the Tower numerous times, but it had been empty. Even Jarvis had said as such. “ What’s going on? Are you sure you’re alright? “

 

“ Yeah I’m good, stop being such a fussbucket. “ The familiar nickname comforted the blond to a degree, but something still seemed wrong. Hell, everything did. It didn’t make any sense. If Tony was fine, why had he been gone for so long? Why had he not so much as called? “ Listen, can you swing by? SHIELD can live without you for a day, right? “

“ Wha—yeah of course, I’ll come over now. I just have to check on Barton and Romanoff. I won’t be long. “

 

“ Good. See you soon, spangles. “

 

The call disconnected, and Steve found himself staring blankly at the screen of his phone. None of this made sense. Every instinct he had screamed for caution, for investigation. For Steve to run in the opposite direction. To take a team in with him.

 

He ignored his instincts. It was Tony. Tony wouldn’t hurt him. Steve knew that. This was ridiculous. If anything, the man was worried about their fellow Avengers, scared for his own life, concerned about Steve’s constant investigating considering there was a killer on the loose who had it out for them. That was enough to set anyone on edge.

 

And yet, Steve had seen his other half on edge before. And it had been nothing like this.

With a shake of his head, Steve pushed the thought to the back of his mind and gathered his things, stuffing papers and files into his case before striding from the room. A quick stop by the medical wing of SHIELD to check on the two assassins of the team, and he would head home. Head back to his love, to his other half. To hole himself up in the building that had truly become home for him, with the man who had made it so. After the week he’d had, Steve needed that more than anything. He needed Tony more than anything.

 

\--

 

Everything in the tower was exactly as Steve had left it. Not a thing out of place. As he strode through the lobby and headed for the elevator, Steve spoke softly to the AI system that ran the building.

 

“ Jarvis? Where is he? “

 

» Mister Stark is awaiting you in the lounge, Captain. «

 

Stepping into the elevator, Steve let Jarvis take him to the correct floor as his mind reeled through the entire situation. Two agents, Avengers, were down, Bruce had not been seen in days – though it was safe to assume the doctor had retreated into some secluded corner to grieve, considering the condition of his husband – and Tony had been MIA for the past week. As much as the soldier was relieved to hear from his other half, to know the man was indeed safe and sound, something seemed wrong.

 

Everyone knew how reckless Tony was. Steve knew it first hand now, after all he’d seen and been through with the genius. A week with no contact, no attempt, nothing at all, though? It was strange. Unlike him. Tony needed to brag. To show off. If he’d found something, if he’d discovered anything, Steve would know it. Not to mention even Tony understood the seriousness of their situation, he knew what was at stake. He knew Steve was at risk. He knew he was. And yet, to isolate himself for so long… Something wasn’t right.

 

The ding of the elevator startled the soldier out of his uneasy thoughts, and he strode into the hallway. In between working at SHIELD, running ops and investigations, and watching over the two unconscious in the medical bay, Steve had spent a majority of his time in his Captain America uniform, shield strapped to his back, working. Always working. Constantly trying to find the one responsible for pulling his team to pieces. Hell, he hadn’t even changed out of the uniform before heading home. All he could think of was making sure his other half was indeed safe. Knowing Tony, the man would be sprawled on the couch with a drink in one hand and a bottle in the other, waiting impatiently for the soldier’s arrival.

What Steve had not been expecting, though, was the sight of Iron Man standing in the center of the lounge room, complete with helmet, though the faceplate had been removed.

Tony’s expression was pure arrogance and snark, but not in the usual way. Not in that self-absorbed and yet self-loathing way Tony always had. The man knew he was miles above so many in the world, and yet still managed to have a severe hatred for himself. And once you got to know him well enough, you could see the signs in his face regardless of what expression he held.

 

Now, though, there was none of it. Pride, arrogance, a lazy hint of that snark, but no hidden anger, no hatred. Nothing. Something had shifted in Tony’s mind, and Steve wasn’t sure whether it was good or bad.

 

“ Tony? Are you okay?? Why are you-- ? “ Steve took a step forward as he spoke, only for Tony to raise his hand in, stopping the soldier in his tracks.

 

“ Wait right there, Steven. “ Something in Tony’s voice was wrong. The man wasn’t himself. He didn’t sound like himself, he didn’t look like himself. The voice was Stark but the tone, the drive behind it, all of it was something else. Something familiar; something the soldier knew he had faced before. But however hard he tried, Steve couldn’t put a finger on it. All he knew was that his other half was in trouble somehow.

 

“ What? Tony, come on. Let’s get you out of the suit. Settle you down. “ Another cautious step, an extremely careful tone of voice. Nothing but concern. Nothing but worry. Steve needed to help Tony. Whatever had happened, the soldier needed to fix it.

 

“ I’m pretty comfortable in the suit, actually. “ The brunette responded lazily with a flick of his hand. “ Besides, you’re all dressed up too in your fancy uniform, parading yourself about to the world. “

 

“ Tony, I don’t— “

 

“ Don’t understand? Of course not. “ The words stung, however Steve looked at it, but he tried to brush past it, his mind reeling as he took in Tony’s words which only continued. “ How could you? Humans weren’t meant to understand anything. “

 

“ What are you talking about? Tony, you’re human! “ This was getting out of hand. The pure glee and amusement on Tony’s face was not normal. Not Tony at all. Steve could not help but wonder if maybe Tony had cracked under stress. He would not be at all surprised. Everything had been tough lately, and Tony had limits of his own. “ I don’t know what’s made you think this way, and I don’t know why, but let’s at least talk this out, try and—“

 

“ This is beyond talking now, Cap. This is it. You believe you’re special because of that serum? “ Tony was beginning to sneer, and it was difficult for Steve to maintain the wish to help him. Each word was a reminder of a time when Steve was unable to protect anyone. Unable to fight. Unable to prove to anyone around him that he was enough, that he could do the job. That he was the man they needed. Yet, even if his frustration showed on his face, Tony continued. “ You are just as pathetic as any other human. Weak. Unable to do anything right. Unable to survive. “

 

This was beginning to sound all too familiar, and Steve found his hands twitching. Itching for his shield. For that sturdy protection, defense against.. what? Against Tony? The idea was ridiculous. And yet, there they stood, Tony proud and horrendously cruel, Steve baffled and worried. Betrayed, in the very corner of his heart. Holding onto the notion that this was Tony in front of him, but feeling utterly horrified at the idea that the man Steve had fallen in love with had broken to the point that he would say such things.

 

Until Tony snarled a few more words.

 

“ Humans were made to be ruled. “

 

The unnatural blue gleam in Tony’s eyes gave it away, but even if it had not suddenly began to glow, Steve would have known. The last time he’d heard those words, it had been Loki. In one fluid motion, he drew the shield off his back; just in time as Tony shot a blast from his repulsors at him. Blocking the shot with ease, Steve lunged forward to do what needed to be done. Cognitive recalibration, that’s what it had been officially labeled last time. Really, Tony needed a very harsh and violent belt around the head. And if it had to be Steve, so be it.

 

The faceplate slid into place as Tony leapt out of the Captain’s reach, firing more shots as he went. But the soldier moved forward, unrelenting, determined. This was Tony he was facing. Tony under the control of that bastard. Steve had talked things through with Clint when the kid had been struggling after his bout of mind control. He knew what it did. How it unmade them. Tore them to pieces.

 

The thought spurred him into action. With very careful timing, Steve threw his shield at Iron Man, and Tony just wasn’t fast enough. The disk slammed into Tony’s side, the man emitting a low grunt of pain – the sound almost shattered Steve’s heart - as the shield rebounded back to its owner who had advanced upon the armored man.

 

“ Let him go, Loki! It’s over! “ Steve spoke sternly, holding his shield at the ready. But the dark chuckle that echoed form inside the helmet was not reassuring.

 

“ You will fall, Captain. You will be kneeling before me, and I will end your life. “

 

The slightest sound of metal scraping on metal alerted Steve, and he managed to step out of the way just in time to avoid a slice in the arm from a blade that now protruded from Iron Man’s hand. Steve hardly had time to dwell on the new alteration to the suit, however, for Tony was upon him, slashing and lunging with all the speed and strength he could manage. Some attacks Steve blocked, some he dodged, all the while looking for an opening to bring all of this to an end. But Tony was smooth and sharp with his movements, all too clever. In a moment of distraction, as Steve was formulating a quick plan to immobilize the man, Tony lunged at him, leaving a deep gash in Steve’s arm. This was quickly followed by a repulsor blast to the stomach, sending the soldier staggering back.

 

“ Tony! God dammit Tony, I know you’re in there! “ Steve gasped as he gripped onto his arm. The blood flow was weaker than it should have been from a wound that size, but Steve hardly noticed. His yell at caused something. A pause. A struggle in Tony’s mind. Something was fighting in there.

 

Of course. Stark was nothing if not a stubborn as hell fighter to the core.

 

Steve took advantage of the opportunity, throwing himself at the man he loved. The two fell to the floor, Steve holding Tony down with all of his strength. He didn’t care that he was staring at the mask, at the helmet, that he couldn’t look Tony in the eye. Tony and Iron Man were one. Looking at one was the same as looking at the other.

 

Just as he was about to deliver the blow that could end this all, the light in the center of the suit’s chest began to glow brighter. He’d only just registered the fact when the beam struck him in the chest, sending the soldier flying. He slammed into the wall, the impact shaking through his entire body, and fell forward onto the floor, surrounded by dust and pieces of plaster that couldn’t handle the impact. A dull ache spread from where the beam had hit, through his chest, his muscles, his bones. But Steve couldn’t stop.

 

‘On your feet, soldier.’ Steve repeated in his mind until he had dragged himself back up. Iron Man was already there, a metal-clad hand taking hold of the front of Steve’s uniform. The blond felt the new blade piece through the protective layering of the uniform, through the skin of his shoulder, digging deep. But he wasn’t about to stand there and take a beating. Struggling against the haze of pain in his mind, Steve lashed out with his shield, striking Tony’s side once more, hard enough to have the blade yanked out of his body as Tony stumbled away, trying to regain balance. The soldier did his best to block out the pain, staggering after him, determined. Bleeding and broken, but determined to save his other half.

 

The problem? Steve was hesitating, wanting nothing more than to keep Tony safe. Tony, however, had no reservations. Being used like a puppet to kill. To destroy. To bring the Avengers down. And it was down to the kid from Brooklyn to stop it. To save everyone.

Another repulsor blast blocked. Another lunge with the knife hardly dodged. Strikes, blasts, slices, somehow Steve managed to avoid most of the incoming damage through instinct alone. His mind was fogged, fueled with adrenalin but fading from pain. Another gash here, another wound there. A blow to the head. A repulsor to the abdomen. Steve was durable as all hell thanks to the serum, but even he had limits.

 

Finally, it was too much.

 

Steven fell to his knees, shield still firmly attached to his arm, head hanging. Blood seeped from his countless wounds; nicks, stabs, slashes all over his arms, his torso, even his back. Whatever that blade was made of, it was good. Too good. Captain America was bruised and bloody. Broken. Defeated.

 

“ Did I not say you would kneel, Captain? “

 

It was a struggle to raise his head, but if this was his end, Steve would look death in the eye as he had done so many times. In the war. On missions. One on ones. Against the Chitauri. Fighting the man he loved to free him from this hold. And he had failed. The least he could do was give a few words to that man, the one locked up behind the mind control, undone and lost to the world. Steve managed to choke something out as Iron Man raised his arm, ready to deliver the final blow.

 

“ I love you, Tony. “

 

Tony paused.

 

It was a brief moment. A second, really. Maybe not even that. But instinct kicked in over pain and Steve saw the pause. Saw the opportunity. Using what energy he had left, he swiped at Tony’s legs, knocking the man off his balance, bringing the metal covered man crashing to the floor. Without hesitation this time, Steve grasped onto the helmet that covered Tony’s head, flicking the catch that would manually dismantle it. As it loosened, Steve tossed it away, leaving Tony’s face bare. Vulnerable.

 

It was only a moment.

 

It was all Steve needed.

 

Somehow, he knew the exact amount of strength to put into the blow, the precise force behind his hit. Enough to knock the control right out of him, but not to cause permanent damage. How he managed it was a wonder, but Steve did not think about it as the shield swung up, coming into contact with Tony’s head with what felt like a sickening crash.

The unnatural, electric blue in Tony’s eyes faded. Leaving the sparkling, beautiful eyes Steve loved so much. Only for a moment, though. There was a flash of recognition, relief, guilt, sadness, before Tony’s eyes faded, the hit from Steve’s shield taking its toll, and he fell unconscious.

 

Pain was radiating through his body, but somehow Steve managed to maneuver his body and Tony’s in a way that left the smaller man cradled in the soldier’s arms, even as Steve descended onto the floor, giving into his injuries. There was all the possibility, with how he was bleeding so steadily, that the Captain would not last the day.

 

But he’d succeeded. He’d saved the Avengers. Saved Tony. Saved the world, in a way. Loki had lost. His life was most certainly a small price to pay.

 

“ J.. Jarvis… “ Steve’s voice was barely a whisper, but the system heard him anyway.

 

» Captain? «

                                                   

“ C-call.. Fury.. tell him.. tell.. “ Everything was dark, hazy, lines across his vision, aches and sharp pains through his whole body. Exhaustion. Pure exhaustion mingling with the pain. Emphasizing it all. Making everything far worse. Jarvis gave some kind of response, but Steve didn’t hear it. He gave into the cold arms of unconsciousness, still holding Tony so protectively, waiting in that dark place for death to find him.

 

\--

 

**Beep… Beep… Beep…**

Steve’s eyes fluttered open. Such a small act, though, seemed like such an effort. He felt drained, exhausted, as though someone had drawn the energy out of him. He recognized the room, though. SHIELD medical bay. Why in the hell would he be in there? Steve was always extra cautious on missions, never gaining an injury he couldn’t deal with himself. He can’t have—

 

Memories flooded through his mind, and with them came pain. His body was suddenly shooting, stabbing, aching, wincing, cringing. Pain all over. Worse, though, were the memories. The phone call. The attack. The injuries. The blood. The pain.

 

Tony.

 

Ignoring the pain, Steve shot up in his bed, his head whipping back and forth as he desperately scanned the room for his other half. Tony had to be here somewhere. If he was here it meant Jarvis called Fury. It meant SHIELD had picked them up. Tony had been in his arms; they wouldn’t have just let him go. And he was injured himself. He had to be here.

 

“ Woah, cool it Captain. “ A familiar voice sounded, and Steve found himself forced to focus on its owner. Director Fury sat somewhat stiffly in a chair by his bed. However calm he tried to sound, Nick Fury had clearly been worried. “ Don’t make us run through the same thing as last time you woke up in this building. “

 

The memory brought back a faint chuckle; the act hurt, though, and Steve could not help but wince, his arm wrapping around his pained abdomen, cringing against the wound in his shoulder. Pain blossomed all over his body, but he did his best to ignore it.

 

“ How long have I been out? “ The blond asked groggily, trying to gauge his injuries. His healing process.

 

“ A couple of days. You know, miraculous healing and all that. “ The director leaned back in his chair, watching the soldier closely. “ You were pretty bad, Cap. “

 

“ I know, Nick. Where is he? “ Steve didn’t care how bad he’d been, how bad he still was. He may heal fast, but there had been some serious damage. It would at least be another day or two until he was back to normal. He didn’t care, though. There would be a time for that later.

 

“ Isolation. You dealt with the problem, really, but we wanted to be sure. “

 

“ Let him out. Please. He’s back, Fury. Tony is himself. I saw it. Let him out. “

 

The Director wanted to argue, that much was clear. But the soldier was relentless, staring him down. It was almost unheard of to directly attempt to overshadow a superior officer, and in any other situation Cap would be kicking himself. This was entirely different, though. This was Tony. If there was anything Steve would fight to the death for, it was the ridiculous billionaire who was sure to be even more broken now than he had been before.

 

“ Listen, Rogers—“ Fury began with a hint of hesitation. Steve curled his hands into fists.

 

“ No. I’m not listening anymore. You can bring him out here, or I will go down there right now and I will find him. “ Steve’s voice was perfectly calm and stable, but his eyes were dangerous. He meant every word he was saying, and Fury seemed to see that. “ I will tear the door off its hinges and I will take Tony back home. And I will never let you near him again. Do you understand, sir? “

 

“ You just love to cause me hell don’t you, Steve. “ Fury sighed as he rose to his feet. A slight chuckle left the blond as he began to unhook himself from the various machines and monitors he was connected to. “ What do you think you’re doing, soldier? “

 

“ Coming with you. “

 

“ Rogers—“

 

One look from Steve was enough to silence Fury. As much as Steve hated to scare or manipulate people, he was not about to leave his partner to the hands of SHIELD. Not after everything he’d been forced to do. And not after he’d seen the way Clint had been treated after his stint of mind control. Tony didn’t need that. He needed to go home.

 

Fury made a noise similar to a growl of frustration as he waved away the nurses who were rushing to see why Steve’s vitals had suddenly disappeared. As displeased as the Director looked, he did not argue as Steve hurriedly got dressed and followed him to the door.

 

**~Tony**

 

SHIELD had disabled the suit. Dismantled it and kept it for ‘observation’. After spending a majority of the week in it, causing trouble, wreaking havoc, trying to kill his team.. well, needless to say Tony was conflicted about this. It was his suit. His creation. In the wrong hands, it could cause endless damage.

 

But a part of him was relieved; Tony was already relieving every moment of the past week, he didn’t need the suit as a further reminder. Some things he could see as plain as day, some were a little hazy. All of the memories were there, though. The gas seeping through his system, taking his control, unraveling him. The sensation of the blade he’d added to his own suit as it forced it’s way into Barton’s gut. Watching him fall with the painful realization in his eyes that one of the team was compromised just as he had been. The sight of Tasha falling, twitching, dying. Unable to do anything, unaware of what had even happened let alone who had caused it. Bruce. Tony’s best friend, seeking comfort. Looking for someone to protect him, someone to help. Someone to be there for him, only to have a hulk-sedating serum shoved into his neck.

 

Steve.

 

Tony clenched his fist at the thought. Some parts of the week were fuzzy, some clearer. He’d watched everything happen as though standing behind misty glass that cleared and fogged at the drop of a hat. What he’d done to Steve, though, was plain as day. As though he were watching a movie playing before his eyes. The attacks, the injuries, the determination and shock in the soldier’s eyes as he fought. As he tried to help the useless genius.

 

More than anything, he wanted out of this room. Out of this enforced isolation. SHIELD was the last place Tony should be. Where he should be was curled up in his lab with a bottle of scotch, drowning out the memories and the pain and the guilt. Tony knew guilt all too well. He had not lived a day of his life without guilt. But whatever mistakes he’d made, however many people he’d managed to disappoint, Tony had always done what was right. He’d fought for what was right.

 

And in the course of a few days, Stark had watched himself be used like a puppet, everything unwound as he hurt the people he wanted to protect. The people who had unknowingly wormed their way into his life.

 

There were cameras in each corner. Watching. Observing. Waiting for signs of relapse. As though the blow to his head hadn’t been hard enough. Steve was nothing if not thorough, though. The painfully, foggy, mind numbing control had drained from him the moment that blessed shield had struck the side of his head. Trust Captain America to save his team. Save the world, really.

 

It had been a day since he woke up. How long he had been here before that, Stark couldn’t say. Beyond dragging himself to his feet, looking around, determining just where he’d been dumped, Tony hadn’t moved all that much. Slumping on the chair off to the side of the room, he’d admitted defeat, falling into a repetitive routine of memories, cursing himself all the way. Keeping his expression hard, unreadable, his posture lazy and uncaring, every bit the arrogant genius the world saw him as. The last thing anyone needed to deal with was a broken murderer.

 

“ How do you know he’s safe? How do you know he won’t—“

 

“ All due respect, sir, but no one knows that man in there better than I do. If he were still a threat, I would know. “

 

Two voices broke Tony out of his endless reel of memories. Both were familiar. One less friendly than the other. One that brought conflict to Tony’s heart. The one person he wanted to see more than perhaps anything in the world, and at the same time, the one person he never wanted to see again.

 

Just the sound of Steve’s voice was enough to bring back the image of the blade piercing his shoulder. Of the repulsor blasts hitting his chest, his abdomen. The wounds. The gashes. The blood. It hadn’t mattered how hard Tony tried to fight the compulsion, the control. He hadn’t been able to stop it. He’d almost killed the man he loved.

 

“ Cap, I can’t let him walk outta here. Not after everything he—“

 

“ He didn’t DO anything! Don’t try to stop me, Fury. He doesn’t need to be here. Not here of all places. “

 

The sound of the lock scraping open was like a painful grating in Tony’s ears. He wanted to run, but couldn’t decide where. Half of him wanted to rush to Steve, to run away from SHIELD with him, to find a way to escape the memories. The other half wanted to flee from everything. To run from the people he’d been forced to hurt. To run from the man he loved, and had almost killed.

 

But unfortunately, Tony was not left with a choice. The door swung open, revealing an extremely disgruntled Director Fury and a rather pained but anxious Steve Rogers.

 

“ Steven.. “ Tony had breathed the name before he’d realized, staring. Frozen. Unable to move. Unable to decide where to run. To the soldier, or away?

 

“ Tony, are you okay? How’s your head? “ Steve’s voice was soft, gentle. Full of far more care than Tony deserved. And yet it put something in his mind at ease the way only Steve could. He took a step towards the soldier without realizing, with no defense against the instincts he’d slowly developed over time. The ones that sent him running to Steve when things seemed all wrong, no matter how unwilling he was to do so.

 

“ I—I’m fine, Steve. Are you—oh geez what are you doing here you idiot, you should be—“ Tony’s voice cracked and died as he saw Steve’s injuries before his eyes. Saw himself hurting the man he loved, bringing him harm, coming so horribly close to killing him. Tony shrunk back, turning away from his other half. Too ashamed to so much as look at him any longer.

 

“ What—no I’m fine. Tony, look at me. “ A hand gripped his arm. Turned him around with extreme care. Bright blue eyes met his own, eyes Tony usually found so comforting. Now all Tony could see was their battle reflected in the bright blue. “ I’m okay. Alright? I’m okay. C’mon. “ Steve steered the man past the obviously unimpressed Director and to the door, only increasing Tony’s confusion.

 

“ What? What are we going? “ Tony was too dazed, too tired to pull away, though instincts told him he should. Once Steve spoke, he wished he had.

 

“ Home. “

 

\--

 

“ Hawk woke up this morning, apparently. “

 

The voice broke Tony out of his daze. He had been staring at the glass in his hand, waiting for its contents to do its job. They’d been home for a half hour and he had already drained half a bottle of scotch, now working his way steadily through the other half. But so far, it had made little difference. Even as the familiar effects of intoxication washed over him, though, Tony could remember all of it.

 

“ Good for him. “

 

“ Tasha woke up yesterday, they say. It looks promising. No lasting effects on Bruce, either. Just some time for the serum to.. wear off. “

 

“ That’s fantastic. “

 

“ Tony. “

 

He’d refused to speak since they left SHIELD. Hardly more than a word. Nothing substantial. Nothing real. Tony was too ashamed. Too lost. Too disgusted with himself to let anyone hear his voice. Not that Steve hadn’t tried. The soldier had tried everything he could, but Tony couldn’t do it. Not after what he’d done.

 

“ Please look at me. Please? “ Steve’s voice grew closer, and Tony knew he was approaching. Stopping just behind him. Waiting with those goddamn puppy eyes that always got him. Got anyone, really. Steve was far too persistent and stubborn for his own good and sometimes it was just infuriating. Though, Tony was still too muddled to be sure it was actually frustration he felt. After having basically no control over himself for a week, it was difficult to adjust.

 

As much as instinct told him not to, Tony turned, clutching onto the glass like a lifeline. Turning his gaze upwards to meet Steve’s, finding that same mixture of comfort and pain. For a moment, he thought the blond would take the glass from his hand, chastise him for drinking so much in so little time. He’d done it before. Steve surprised him, though, tucking a finger under Tony’s chin and stroking his thumb along the man’s cheek.

 

“ I’m sorry, Tony. God, I’m so sorry—“

 

“ What?! This isn’t your fault! “ It was the first thing Tony had been sure about since he woke up. No one else was to blame for what had happened. It was all his fault. His fault for being unable to fight it, unable to protect himself from the god. If he’d moved faster, if he’d designed the suit to be ready sooner, if even the slightest thing had been different, maybe—Tony tried to draw away from the soldier, guilt wracking his entire body. But Steve held onto him. Refusing to let go.

 

Far too stubborn for his own good, obviously. In the back of his mind, Tony began to wonder if the supersoldier was self-destructive. He had to be, to stay with Tony after this.

“ It’s not yours either, Tony. It’s his. It’s all his—“

 

“ Easy for you to say, stars and stripes. Never made a mistake in your life. “ Tony responded bitterly, taking a large sip of his drink, welcoming the burn of the scotch in his throat. Steve’s grip tightened, almost painful.

 

“ You fought. Do you remember that? You paused. Right when you were about to kill me, you made it stop. For just long enough for me to stop you. “ Steve drew the smaller man closer, arms wrapping around him. Undeserved, unwelcome comfort, but comfort nonetheless. And no matter how much Tony had done nothing to earn it, he needed it. He needed something to dull the pain of his guilt. It could be dealt with later. He was too broken, to sad, to ashamed to fight anymore. Letting himself listen, even if he didn’t want to hear the words.

 

“ I would have been dead if not for you, Tony. “ Steve murmured softly into his ear, one hand wrapped around him and the other prying the drink from Tony’s hand. The brunette didn’t resist, the words sinking in. They didn’t fix anything. They didn’t undo what he’d done. But.. they helped. His fight, his battle inside his own mind, it hadn’t been for nothing. At least he’d done one small thing right. If only one.

 

It was all too much. There were tears in his eyes before he could realize. Burying his face in the juncture of Steve’s neck, breathing him in, hands winding themselves into Steve’s shirt, clutching desperately. Seeking that comfort the soldier could usually give him. Desperate for the guilt to be gone.

 

Even if he knew it likely never would be. Not really.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this is actually the first fic I've ever written so I apologise if there are some inconsistencies and whatnot ;; any and all feedback is much appreciated so I can take it into consideration in the future. Thanks :)


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